Nov. 16, 1924– (3)
     The interlude was as brief as the blizzard and as I toiled along the road, another storm enveloped the earth.  I met some farmers driving their cows home to the barn.  I had seen a similar sight shortly before getting to the creek, and it gave me a pleasant thrill.
     Having made a few final sketches and realizing I could not paint, I decided to try and makeDaytonin time to catch the4:47train toBuffalo.  I turned around and began my long hard “trek” against the wind and cold.  Ordinarily this would merely have been invigorating but with my 25 x 33 portfolio that acted as a sail, it was a genuine hardship. Sometimes I had to walk backwards and let it fly out as it would.  I stopped by the Cattaraugus Creek for lunch – first under a group of pines then in an old barn by the creek bed.  It was cold and I did not enjoy it as much as it deserved. An orange, almonds and grapes I reserved for eating on the train.
      I made the Erie railroad a mile below Persia without getting very tired, but shortly after getting on to this long straight N.W. pointing line, a terrific blizzard, colder and more violent than any of the others assaulted me.  I stopped at a swamp byPersiato get black elderberries and fine branches.  The walk from here on was cold, bitter and cheerless, the wind so cold and swift that I could walk but slowly against it, encumbered as I was with the unwieldy portfolio.  As I nearedDaytonhowever at late dusk, something of the black dead swamps with their blacker pine trees and the wide far stretching hills and plains, with the menacing sky above, charmed me.
     It was pleasant to get into the warm lighted station where a fire was roaring in a stove.  There was no one around for awhile. (I